


Lost Treasures

by SpeakInInk



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Language of Flowers, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), No beta cause im too much of a shy blob, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-10-21 20:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeakInInk/pseuds/SpeakInInk
Summary: Thousands of years following an era of peace brought forth by a woman who wings were white as a bleached conch shell, the world they live in is changed in many ways. But not all is peaceful, and something evil lurks beyond the horizon none dare cross.So when something treasured is lost, eight souls in an ocean of misery and content find each other and seek for change.





	1. The First Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> How long has it been? Years? Probably?  
> Seems I have found my way into the K-pop community.
> 
> Welp, lets see what happens.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Individually, we are one drop. Together, we are an ocean
> 
> ~Ryunosuke Satoro

_'Would you like to hear a story sweetie?'_

_'Yes!'_

_'What are you in the mood to hear of? The fall of kings, the rise of a prince who cast his family out? How about the whispering caves at the seashore? Or the relic lost at the hands of a thief who burst into dust? Would you enjoy the story of the animal god?_

_'I want to hear the story of the First Gifts!'_

_'Aren't you tired of hearing it over and over again?'_

_'No! I like that story a lot!'_

_'Well come and sit, and let's begin.'_

_'Many, many years ago, when the old kingdoms still reigned and people lacked the the wings and claws and abilities we can see today, there was a young girl who was the daughter of a potter and a painter. Her name has since been lost to time, all we know is that it began with the letter 'H'._

_'Like yours?'_

_'Yes dear, listen close.'_

_'She lived with her family beside her numerous siblings, and when she was only a little older than you, she had gone into the woods near her village in search of adventure. She had been near a river in the forest when she witnessed a hawk and a dove fighting. They fell and she ran to find that the hawk had gotten away and left the dove injured and dying on the banks of the river. The young girl tried to help the dove, desperately wishing to save the life of the small bird, and she thought it was all in vain until the dove spoke to her._

_'I thank you kindly for your help little one, and though I am beyond saving, I will give to you a gift in return for your efforts.'_

_'Out of gratitude for the girl's hopeful attempt to save the dove, the bird gave her the gift of flight through wings that could disappear into white slits on her back. With her wings she set out to bring peace the the many separated villages and towns throughout the continent._

_Through many failed and successful attempts to bring the continent under unified rule, the young girl rose to rule peacefully surrounded by the small number of gifted that had joined her over the years. The previous monarchies had accepted her as an angel sent by the gods and sat her upon a sole throne in the central kingdom and the gifted that joined her stood as a council. Tales are told that some spoke with animals, others could change limbs to that of the animal that blesses them, and the girl became simply known as the 'First'._

_From the realization that gifts were different for each person, it took a number of decades for people the understand the ways the gifts worked. People thought the 'First' had been cursed by the gods when she began her journey until others also began to gain animal-like abilities early into their lives._

_Those who are gifted are given their blessing by the first creature they touch as children from ages as young as a couple of months to ten years. None of the gifts their parents may have had are passed down. If the animal the child touches judges them worthy, they are given a gift from either the animal's choosing, or the god of animals possess the creature and bestows the gift personally like it is believed the god did with the 'First'. It was initially believed the animal would undoubtedly gift the child a blessing, but there were many who received no blessing at all and remain without an ability granted to them for the rest of their lives_

_People have been able to shift limbs and features, and though it is very rare to be able to perform a full body shift there have been brief recordings of complete shifts. There have been many accounts of people being able to speak with the species of animal that they were blessed by. Others are given extra appendages such as tails or claws, and eyes have been found to have changed after a gift._

_There have also been rare accounts of children who are 'twice-gifted', who gain two blessings from a single animal._

_Like the 'First', the gift will mark itself into the child's skin, and over the years the simplicity of the gift markings have become overshadowed by more intricate marks. Some have marks that span the entirety of their limb and some that cover the whole area of the blessing. It is also not entirely uncommon for people to have themselves tattooed so as to appear gifted, though it is less popular these past few centuries._

_Some gifts are...faulty to a sense. Some gain what we call 'half-gifts' and are 'half-gifted'. This could appear as half a tail or three fingers with claws rather than all five, or one wing instead of two-'_

_'Like yours?'_

_'Yes dear."_

_'Do you not like having only one wing?'_

_'I cannot lift myself from this ground but I am content on land.'_

_'Oh, okay.'_

_'Now back to the story.'_

_'Half-gifted are sometimes deemed lesser than fully gifted humans, but nothing terribly drastic has happened against half-gifted so few people pay any mind. They live same as the other gifted humans, and choose to ignore any prejudiced words._

_We were at peace for centuries, but countless conflicts and wars have left the monarchies torn and lifeless, and the teachings of the 'First' are nothing but remnants of what they once were.'_

_That is the story of the 'First Gifts', and there are many other stories that connect to that single story, but it is getting rather late so I will end this storytime with a few words._

_'In today's world, the kings and queens of the continents remain secluded from their people, and the military is corrupt and cruel, nothing like the kingdoms under the 'First'. That is why many break the law using their gifts, and there is talk of anarchy.'_

_'Little one, if you ever get the chance, run and find people who are willing to help make a change to this crumbling kingdom.'_

_'Will you come with me?'_

_'I'm getting older dear, but if you take my hand, I'll follow you anywhere.'_

_'Promise?'_

_'Promise.'_

* * *

 

_'Noble creature, do you deem this child worthy of your gift?'_

_'They are worthy, yes.'_

_'Very well.'_

_'Small child, prepare yourself for a journey filled with trials of love and loyalty, and restore hope to this land._


	2. One Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Take those steps forward Hongjoong, and I hope we are able to meet in the future."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly just...winging it with this. Lets see how poorly this turns out

_"Take no prisoners! Everyone must die!"_

_The battle cry ripped through the sea wind that whirled around the torn sails of the ship, flames licking away at the cloth and burning pieces fluttering down to the deck where two opposing groups of people fought._

_A sickening crack resounded in the air, rising above the unrestrained roars and cries of the writhing mass of combatants. Hongjoong's head shot up and he whipped around to see a blonde haired male send an older man flying over the ship railing with a well-placed kick to the stomach, and the markings on the feets and legs of the blonde glowed briefly before the male dove back into the fray. The resulting splash never reached his ears as Hongjoong's scimitar was met was a saber and the screech of metal against metal._

_"Filthy sea scum!" the man he was locking swords with snarled, a sneer stretching across bleeding lips and over a slashed face. The lines tearing through the man's face were jagged and deep, like he had just wrestled a wildcat._

_"Oh, that's rich coming from another piece of sea scum!" he spat back, slashing the saber away._

_The brown haired man let out a braying roar, his face contorting and the tears in his face twisting into some visceral mesh of blood and flesh._

_In reality, the tears were from Hongjoong's own hands, his nails resembling that of a cat, hooked and currently covered in blood._

_Crimson blood was dripping into the other man's eyes, mixing wetly with unshed tears and the horizontal iris in the other's amber eyes. He hesitated, reaching to rub the red from his eyes, and a foot flew from Hongjoong's left, crashing into the man's side, sending him careening into another man wearing a green sash around his head. The blond male from earlier touched down from his leaping kick with a thump against the blood-slicked wood boards._

_"Kangaroo!"_

_"Caracal! Get out of here!"_

_"I'm not leaving you all," Hongjoong yelled over the clamour at the blond. "The captain-"_

_"Says you both need to leave."_

_A voice interrupted the two, and they turned around to see another male whose orange and black striped arms were those of a tiger, hooked claws and fur were practically soaked in crimson. "Leave, jump ship and run!"_

_"But-"_

_"I won't leave yo-"_

_Another presence appeared behind them, "You will leave, now."_

_Then there were hands pushing Hongjoong and the one he'd called Kangaroo through the throng of pirates, shoving the two of them straight into the splintering railings on the side of the main deck. He took a fleeting glance over the side of the ship, catching sight of the waves of salt water crashing against the ship as the wind howled, and turned back to face the person who had been pushing him away._

_Hongjoong was met with brilliant golden eyes the color of doubloons, and the thin slit of black in the pools of gold. A midnight black tail lashed agitatedly behind the person, and Hongjoong could see splotches of blood on the fur and clothes on the black haired male before him._

_Before he could fully take in the golden eyes and earrings of the other in front of him, something small and cold was being pressed into his palms and lithe fingers curled around his own, closing his hand tight._

_"Capt-"_

_"Take those steps forward you two, let the gods bless you with a future far beyond this day."_

_And then the wind was buffeting against his back, and Hongjoong gasped as he and Kangaroo were shoved over the railing._

_He looked up one last time, meeting golden eyes and choked back a cry of anguish as the last sight he saw was a saber exiting the chest of his captain with spray of vermillion red._

Hongjoong's eyes shot open as he flew from the bed, tangling his legs in the thin sheets and falling heavily against the wood of the floor. A grunt of pain was yanked unceremoniously out of his mouth and he blinked blearily at the sunlight streaming through a dusty window.

"Everything alright in there sir?" A knock came from the closed door, and Hongjoong took a couple breaths as he took in the small room he had rented the previous night at a busy inn.

"Yes, everything is fine!"

He called out to who he assumed was the innkeeper, who then told him there would be a breakfast down in the main hall in twenty minutes. He stood up unsteadily, shaking the sheets from his legs and grabbed his clothes from inside the bedside dresser to get dressed for the day.

It was only fifteen minutes later that he was making his way down a flight of creaking wooden stairs, his clothes slightly wrinkled, a heavy red vest draped over his shoulders, and his hair haphazardly combed through with his fingers. His boots made a slight thump as Hongjoong stepped from the final stair, and entered the main hall of the inn.

Around forty or more people milled around the large room, some already seated and others up gathering food onto thick wooden trays. Most looked like men who drank too much the previous night, some were noticeably couples, and few people were alone. As he walked down the rows of tables, Hongjoong could see a number of people whose gifts were visibly out of their marking form, either out of habit or simply because. There was a man with heavy deer antlers getting food, a woman with droopy dog ears laughing at something her companion said, another woman whose reptilian tail peeked out from beneath her skirts as she spooned food into her son's mouth, and a younger man who was chatting amiably with a squirrel.

Hongjoong could see a small number of families dispersed throughout, little kids in their parents arms, and when he heard a joyful laugh from above, he saw a young girl with mousy brown wings fluttering around the thick rafters. She had a smaller girl in her arms-possibly her sister-whose gift came not in the form of wings but in the shape of a long, thin monkey tail.

The two were swinging from the rafters and the older girl was on constant watch as her sister hung upside-down from the sturdy beams. Hongjoong smiled as he passed under them on his way to the bar at the far side of the hall by the large doors that led outside, their laughter nearly contagious.

As he took a seat close to the doors, a bartender holding a glass walked up, quirking an eyebrow at him. "You drinking this early mate?"

"No," Hongjoong laughed lightly. "Just water will do." 

A glass cup filled with fresh water soon slid across the bartop, coming to a halt in front of him, and Hongjoong absentmindedly brushed his thumb across the markings on the top of his hands.

The bartender nodded to the goldenrod markings that curled from underneath the cuffs of Hongjoong's shirt to his fingertips in sweeping waves. "Your gift any help while at sea?"

Hongjoong paused, feeling the small smile slipping slightly, before he picked up the glass, the smile back in place. "How'd you gather I work at sea? Perhaps I was just by the docks the other night."

"Sure, mate," the bartend snorted, a jovial smile carved into his face. "Your seasalt smell is much too concentrated to simply have been 'passing by the docks' the other night. Even the huge amount dust in the rooms isn't enough to mask to scent of the ocean air and seaweed."

"You smell like a sailor."

Hongjoong lowered the glass, the corners of his mouth aching as his smile grew and he looked into the older man's eyes

"Thats a feasible deduction, my fellow. Your gift must be from a very keen hunter." He motioned to the man's own marking, the four small lines arcing across the roof of the bartender's nose emanating a slight celadon green. 

"This," a rumbling laugh rose from the bartender while tapping lightly against the marking, "Is simply from my old family dog, that lovable pooch was never keen on hunting, but her gift has served me well in my job."

"As it seems it has," Hongjoong nodded in agreement, setting down the now empty glass. "Duty calls."

"Going sailin' today?" 

Hongjoong adjusted the buttons on his vest as he stood up from the stool, the metal glinting as the sunlight streamed through the large windows beside him, the sea just beyond the glass. He could feel the whisper of gold against his neck, the golden claw dangling from a short chain connected to a tiny moon in his left ear.

"Perhaps."

"May the winds be in your favor." the bartender waved as Hongjoong opened the large door, the smell of salt and ocean breeze and light from the early morning sun hitting him in the face.

"Thank you, and may your future be bright."

* * *

There was a knock at the door.

"Young master, Lord Park has requested you to be downstairs for breakfast in ten minutes."

"Ughh..."

"Master Seonghwa?" 

Another brief knock.

"Hmmph...got it."

Silence.

Finally.

Seonghwa rose shakily from his bed with a disgruntled groan, the plush comforter being tossed away from his body as he slid off the mattress. Wearing only light trousers, Seonghwa trudged to his window, throwing the curtains open haphazardly, the morning sunlight streaming into the room. He let out a deep breath as the light warmed his bare chest and face, and ran his hand through his pitch black hair. 

"Another trivial political matter I'm sure," he mumbled, turning to pull open the doors of his closet. An array of finery met his eyes, from jackets with what seemed like hundreds of silver clasps, to shirts with what was probably hand sewn silk embroidery, and pants whos hems were lined in gold. He glared at the clothing, inwardly both cursing and thanking the life he led.

"Another day...nothing will change."

Seven minutes later, he was pensively adjusting the cuffs of simple white dress shirt and flinging a rich blue jacket with his family emblem on the back over his shoulders. Raking his fingers through his hair again, he slipped a pair of fine leather shoes onto his feet, and exited his room. Seonghwa flew past a number of maids and butlers who nodded at him as he passed on his way to the dining hall.

His knew his footfalls were brisk and loud, and he knew he was often perceived as intimidating, but Seonghwa was still faintly stung as passing attendant flinched, avoiding his gaze with all their might.  

_Just another day being the son of a powerful noble directly under a stuffy old king._

The dining hall doors came into his sight as a rounded a corner, two maids bowing an pushing to doors open rather than he do it himself.

_Just another day..._

The dining hall of his father's mansion had a ridiculously large ceiling, with windows that stretched nearly the entirety of the walls, sunlight lighting the whole expanse of the gilded room. Today, instead of a whole lot of empty and a long table, there was a whole lot of empty, a long table, and standing beside one of the many gilded pillars right infront of one of the massive windows, was a man.

A very tall, very burly, very very powerful man, whose grey-white hair glittered in the sun.

_This was surely not just another day._

Before his eyes, turning to the sound of the opened doors, was a man the kingdom has hailed as a war hero for many decades before Seonghwa had even come into the world.

A man who has been a war hero for over seventy years, and the eldest member of the royal council, the fearsome God of War, Choi Boyeon.

"Ah, little Seonghwa, you have grown quite a lot. Come and sit, we have much to discuss."

_What is happening?_

* * *

 A startled shout rang through the still air of the courtyard, followed soon by the clatter of metal against stone. A young male was gasping, his sword knocked from his hand, a broadsword angled at his face, its holder staring unblinkingly at him.

"You lose Dabin."

"Damn right I do Jongho," the young man laughed, the sword in his face lowering to reveal a slightly shorter male whose brown hair was still dry in comparison to Dabin, whose own sandy blond hair was slick with sweat.

"Good match."

"Yeah, you're practically unbeatable."

"Not true, my grandfather throws me on my ass more times than I can count." Jongho breathes, his sword clinking against the cobblestone beneath their feet.

"Where is gramps anyway?"

"He wouldn't approve of you calling him that. But he's gone to see some noble about 'important business."

"Yuck, politics."

"You're telling me."

Jongho grumbled, recalling his grandfather patting him on his head earlier that day after their daily session of 'no gifts, I'm old but not senile, you're gonna get your butt kicked kiddo' training.

_"Don't beat up the other students too much, my boy."_

_"I'll try."_

He could definitely say he tried.

Dabin went to pick up the fallen blade, and the two of them started to walk to the edges of the courtyard to avoid the other soldiers whose varying weapons made differing sounds while in use. Jongho noted two other young men, sparring barehand, though one had a distinctly lizard tail and used it to trip his opponent who yelling in protest as he fell. An older man was instructing three newer trainees in archery, their arrows whistling through the air to land in the bushes or some area of their targets, and woman with short hair was drilling another group of recruits in the use of throwing knives. 

The air was thick with the smell of wood and dust and sweat, but Jongho breathed deeply, the familiar environment somewhat soothing.

After all, being born into the family of the God of War, it was only natural Jongho, his siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles and many other relatives took on roles that somehow involved either the military or the kingdom at large.

_Natural..yeah._

"Will you be going to that royal ball the king is throwing on the full moon?"

"I'll probably be forced to go regardless of what I say."

"Sweet."

"No."

"But think of all the pretty ladies!" Dabin motioned to his chest, a faraway look in his eyes as he and Jongho entered the weapon shed, setting the sword into its leather scabbard as he fantasized about pretty ladies with large chests.

"Dream on my friend, those royal balls are full of snobby nobles and mistresses with their butts stuck out and stuck up, arrogant children." Jongho laughed lightly, setting the broadsword in his hand against the wall alongside other large blades.

"But during times where nothing is happening, those royal gatherings are where all the hot ladies and gossip come in."

"We're at peace, Dabin, all thanks to dear old 'gramps'."

"Why are you allowed to call him gramps?"

"Because he is my actual grandfather."

"Touche."

"That was a terrible comeback."

"I know it was, kick me."

Jongho smirked, striking out with his foot, whereas Dabin leaped away cackling, "You'll never catch this gazelle, little oxen!"

Jongho grumbled as Dabin took a jab at his height, even though the latter was only four inches taller.

"You're just freakishly tall!"

"Am not! Have you seen that giraffe man that walked by the other day?!"

"Are too!"

Dabin laughed, racing away from Jongho across the courtyard and out the large gates. Jongho gave chase after his friend, his heart feeling light as something sunk in his stomach at the thought of the peace their kingdom reveled in.

_Not everything is peaceful here Dabin, I know it._

_I can feel it._

* * *

 

"San!"

"Got it dad!"

San clutched the nets tighter, a sequence of clicking and squeals coming from his throat. Something flashed underwater, a shimmer of grey under the midday sun and suddenly the nets were lighter and pushing themselves from the water.

A responding sting of clicks reached his ears, and with a final heave San yanked a large net filled with wriggling fish onto the floor of his father's rather sizable fishing boat.

"Phew..." he huffed, patting down his already soaked trousers and scanning the floor of the boat for any stray fish that fell from the net.

"Good work! That should be the final haul this afternoon, so make sure to thank your friend before we head back to shore." His father remarked, gesturing to the water as he placed the other three nets filled with fish into the compartment underneath the boards of the boat. 

San grinned, grabbed two gasping fish from the newest net, and leaned over the side of the boat, dangling the poor things teasingly.

A high pitched squeal rose from the ocean depths, and a sleek dolphin rose, snapping the fish out of San's hand and into its beak with a satisfied crunch.

 _"Thanks Shim!"_ he clicked, the sounds familiar against his throat.

A round of squeals responded, the dolphin equivalent of 'no prob bob' and San laughed.

"Alright, back to shore we go." San's dad laughed, tossing him an oar that San caught easily.

"Okay."

As they began rowing back to the distant shore that lay beneath the hill of houses and even lower beneath the towering mansions and castle on the horizon, his father caught his eye. "What's this dolphin's name?"

"He came by three weeks ago Dad, and his name is Shim."

"Really? Isn't that name a little undignified for a dolphin?"

"Technically he's around my age, and I don't think you can talk to me about strange names."

"Oh?" his father's eyes twinkled.

"You named the jellyfish you met the other day, 'Squishy'?"

"Squishy is a very noble name for a jellyfish."

"I don't know if it is."

"It most certainly is!"

The father and son duo bickered the whole time they rowed back to the shore, where a woman was sitting with a younger woman weaving together straw hats on a small dock. As soon as the two pulled the boat onto the warm sand and hauled their catch onto the dock's edge, San felt the sun vanish from his eyes and there was now a hat on his head.

"Ara!"

"San! It fits perfectly!" His older sister tutted, adjusting the conical hat on his head, and San could feel his hair beginning to cool as it shaded him from the sun. "Now I don't have to hear you come home complaining about the sun 'damaging your hair' everytime you and Dad go out fishing during the middle of the day when the sun is highest."

"Having the feeling of your hair and scalp burning is part of the fisherman's life, dear daughter." Their father laughed as their mother tisked, tying a loose knot in the rope threaded through the brim of the straw hat now on their father's head.

"Of course dear, you'll be bald soon enough."

"I don't know love, I think my hair is as healthy as it was when we first met."

"Sure honey, whatever you say," Choi Ayeong smiled as her husband sputtered over her comment on his hair. "Now let's get those three nets to the restaurant, and the last one we can take home."

"Yay, sushi!"

"Yay, more fish!"

"Haha kids, come and help your father." 

"Kay."

San grinned brightly as his father lifted two nets, Ara grabbing a third while balancing a bundle of straw on her shoulder, and he grabbed the fourth, the scent of the fish drying from the sunlight hitting him full force. He wrinkled his nose, and his mother laughed, "Sannie still hasn't gotten his sea snout."

"What a surprise, the dolphin can't appreciate the smell of fish," Ara snickered.

"Mom!"

The family's laughter drifted on the breeze as they walked along the shore into town, the sea glittering brilliantly and peacefully beside them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this turns out well in the end.
> 
> Honestly, I had no idea what kinds of animals the boys would have been gifted by, so I kinda just went with gut feelings like 'should i make hongjoong a small wild cat?' or 'would seonghwa look sexy with fangs? do i make him a snake?' or 'yunho could totally be a tall animal' or 'i cant have them all be land creatures, can i?' or 'is jongho that small?' or 'san makes some funny noises'
> 
> cause my brain just works like that
> 
> also im still working out how all the children meet...so yeah.
> 
> And they are all young adults, maybe two or three years older than their actual ages.


	3. You Are..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power.  
> ~Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still winging it. can't have everything be happy sunshine and rainbows.
> 
> I also dont know if i have an defined writing style, and im kinda sporadic soooo...yep
> 
> and their kingdom doesn't have a name yet. oops

The smell of fresh wheat and bread emerging from the oven wafted through the building, midday sun flooding the homey little bakery in warmth light. Quaint wooden tables were spaced evenly throughout, two to four chairs at each one according to size. Fronds of leafy plants bowed their greenery towards the windows, some covered in flora, others whose branches brushed the recently swept floor. A small number of people sat at tables, indulging in breads and pastries and other foods during the often busy lunch traffic, content smiles on their faces.

A young man with grey-brown hair sighed contentedly as he stood at the front counter, and smiled as the newest customer walked through the door of his family's bakery into the warm atmosphere. The woman smiled back at him and her young son grasping her hand shyly ducked behind her beige skirts.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Kim, what can I do for you?"

"Hello Wooyoung, Chanseong and I are just here for a little treat after another fishy lunch before we head to the Kang residence."

"What would you two like?"

Mrs. Kim gently nudged Chanseong forward, her gecko tail pressed against his back comfortingly. Chaesong glanced back at his mother nervously, before shuffling towards the display case filled with various scones, cupcakes and other pastries. He tapped the glass right over a small plate of brownies, and Mrs. Kim ordered a strawberry scone.

Wooyoung continued smiling as he pulled a brownie and scone from the casing, speaking to the older woman as he did so. 

"How are Mr. Kim and his merchant friends adjusting to the life of fishermen?"

"Goodness, my husband has gone practically stir crazy ever since the council enacted that new order prohibiting lower class merchants from selling their goods. The other men he worked with have either gone into fishing or found some other job."

"That must be troublesome."

"Indeed, but he'll need to adjust soon or my husband will drive me crazy."

"Oh dear, we wouldn't want that. That'll be three silvers."

Wooyoung laughed as Mrs. Kim spoke exasperatedly about her husband ranting over how infuriating the government was, and how almost every meal that she had made in the past weeks somehow involved fish of all sorts while pulling out her small coin purse. He deftly packed the pastries in a small paper bag, and set them on the counter where Chanseong was tapping his little hands, his fingers occasionally sticking to the smooth wood. The small pink markings at the pads of his fingers glowed faintly as he tapped, tugging his fingers from the countertop when they stuck.

"How has school been, Chanseong?" Wooyoung smiled kindly at the young boy, who stopped tapping briefly, ducking his head down.

"...It's fine.." Chanseong mumbled, his ears turning a faint shade of salmon pink.

"That's good."

"..."

"Wooyoung dear," Mrs. Kim spoke after a small period of silence. "You and your mother should come by for dinner some time. I think my husband's old colleague just brought up some impressive fish earlier today."

"That'd be lovely Ma'am," Wooyoung replied as Mrs. Kim handed him three small silver coins, and in return he gently set the bag of pastries into Chanseong's hands. The little boy clutched the bag, prying a few sticky fingers off as his markings flickered.

"...Thank you."

"You're welcome Chanseong, good luck with school."

"Mm."

Mrs. Kim ruffled Chanseong's spiky brown hair and they turned to exit. "Have a lovely afternoon, Wooyoung! Remember coming over for dinner sometime!"

"Will do, have a nice afternoon as well!" He waved cheerfully as they walked out the door. Following the soft click as the door shut, the small bakery fell still once more. The few customers inside continued coversing in low voices as they went about their day peacefully.

"Wooyoung!" A voice split through the calm atmosphere moments after the door shut, and Wooyoung jumped as his name was hollered out from the backroom. "Come and help me with these puff pastries!"

"In just a second, Mom!" 

Brushing off the apron he wore over a plain tan shirt and dark trousers, Wooyoung ducked into the back room, where an older woman with deep brown hair pulled into a tight bun was lifting trays of still hot puff pastries out of a large stone oven. She blew lightly over the pastries, the remnants of steam and smoke dissipating into the air and set the tray down at the large island in the center of the kitchen.

 "Would you be a dear and get the next batch out of the other oven?" Wooyoung grinned as he grabbed the thick oven mitt from his mother, striding to the over on the other side and lifting a second tray from the heat. He shut the wooden door quickly, trapping the heat as the flames further back died down and set his tray down beside the one his mother pulled out and was now drizzling chocolate over.

"Mrs. Kim invited us over for dinner sometime," he said, grabbing a thin wooden spoon and dipping it into the bowl melted chocolate. "She said a collegue of Mr. Kim's hadcaught quite a large haul of fish today."

"She's made such a generous proposition, how could I refuse?" His mother mused. "They're such a sweet little family, I remember when Chanseong's older siblings used to play with you when you were still attending the academy."

"They're almost all at the Academy now, I think only the third is still at the school," Wooyoung said, thinking back to the last time he had seen Chanseong's three older siblings, twins who were boy and girl, and a younger girl. Surely by now, the twins would be entering or have already entered the Academy where all kids aged twelve and older went, and the younger girl would still be in the local school.

"That reminds me Wooyoung," his mother spoke, contemplative tone in her voice. "What happened to that close friend of yours from the academy? Yeonseok? Yeongsaeng?"

A bitter taste entered his mouth as soon as his mother mentioned his 'close friend' from years ago and Wooyoung closed his eyes briefly and his hands stilled.

"I guess we just lost contact."

"Mm."

His mother didn't question it any further, choosing to wonder when Wooyoung's brother would be visiting from his training in the capital.

The chocolate continued dripping from the spoon, widening the pool of warm sugar beneath Wooyoung's unmoving hands.

* * *

 "I need this dress to be perfect, you should count yourself blessed by my having to come to this quaint little shop." A haughty voice reverberated shrilly through the spacious room, bouncing off of walls that had dozens of colorful clothes and dresses hanging from racks. 

"Of course my lady, it will be just as you ask."

Yeosang clutched the fabric in his hands tighter as a plump woman shrieked arrogantly, gesticulating wildly as she once more rattled off a list of all the accoutrements she absolutely had to have on her new gown. She continued to motion dramatically to different patterns and fabrics and gemstones to be woven into the dress, insisting it had to be very flashy and eye-catching for her to gain any attention at the upcoming ball from the royal family and other high nobles.

A smaller woman stood in front of her, nodding politely as she wrote and crossed off at ever growing speeds as the other woman kept demanding different styles and cuts. Yeosang felt himself rolling his eyes as his mother continued to be the epitome of polite customer service to this bratty adult lady, whereas he had half a mind to march over and refuse her purchase.

"You are very fortunate to be the only other seamstress shop in this run down area of the capital, all the others were upright refusing me because they were 'too busy' with all of the other nobles in this city," the lady snarked again, fluffing her eye-melting lime green skirts. "And I couldn't aff-bring myself to order from outside the kingdom, I wouldn't want my dress to be lost because of some slimy pirates."

 _Right_ , Yeosang thought huffily, _more_ _like_ _you_ _couldn't_ _afford_   _to have it made and brought to you._

The mention of pirates did bring a slight tinge of worry to Yeosang's mind, as just last month he and his mother had lost an entire shipment of very expensive fabric to pirates who had raided the merchant ship and sent the shaken noble merchant home stripped of all valuables. The valuables he had been carrying were precious stones and finery from the nearby kingdom of Tai La, finery which included the fabric his mother had been able to purchase after saving up money for the past year. She spoke to Yeosang about it shortly before the news of its loss at sea, and it was cloth that another seamstress said shimmered like the ocean on a sunny summer's day.

Unfortunately, it was now either at the ocean floor alongside many other valuables, or in the hands of a pirate.

Maybe it was now a coat for whoever raided the ship.

"You! Boy!" 

The pig-like squeal cut through Yeosang's musings, and he looked up abruptly, near stabbing himself with a needle as he sewed together a patch on an earlier customer's worn jacket. 

"You would do well to listen to your mother's instructions as you sew my gown! It will be perfect, or I will have you placed into servitude under my command!" The woman barked, pointing at him as though he'd just insulted her inchworm colored dress to her face. 

Not that he didn't want to.

"You have fallen quite low Chorong," the woman wheeled to glower at Yeosang's mother, who said nothing in return. "You were so happy all those years ago at the Academy, so beautiful and kind and strong. Now you are here at the edge of the capital with a husband drowned at sea and a son who glares at your customers, sewing costumes for theatre performances and even courtesans and low class prostitutes and patching peasant clothes ."

"..." 

"Hmph!"

The woman whirled around, stomping gracelessly to the door of the shop, "My gown must be completed by the day before the full moon, or I will destroy this little shop of yours!"

"Of course, miss."

The door fell shut with a bang, and Yeosang blinked as his mother breathed, and then slammed her hand with the woman's list of demands on the table next to her. A slender black leg rose from behind her as the sound of fabric tearing reached Yeosang's ears, and stabbed into the white sheet, the thunk echoing hollowly. The seven other legs that appeared trembled furiously in the air, resisting the urge to also impale to poor piece of paper now pinned to the wood.

"She hasn't changed at all, and to think she married into some noble family." His mother snarled, glaring down at the paper in hopes that her gaze alone would incinerate it.

"You knew her?"

"Once upon a long time ago," she picked the paper off the claw of her spider leg, setting it down once more. "I knew her and others back at the Academy when I attended with your father. She'd been part of a group who spent their time showing off for the boys from noble families, and to think she got what she wished for."

"Hm." Yeosang hummed in reply, finishing the stitching on the jacket and cutting the thread absentmindedly. The sound of clattering and the swish of fabrics came from behind where he sat, and he glanced back to see his mother's eight other limbs darting about the shelves, sweeping spools of thread into her hands.

"Never mind that, we have her measurements from earlier and I'll start on the drafting of the fabric and the template," she spoke, referencing how she had taken the woman's measurements when she first stormed in, before all the screeching. "How is that outfit for the House of Flowers dancer going, Yeosang?"

Yeosang turned on his stool, squinting critically at the outfit that was draped across a mannequin at the side of the room. The fabric shimmered in the late afternoon sun streaming through the window nearby, and he couldn't help but wonder who exactly would be wearing such an outfit.

"It's almost done, and it'll be ready in two days."

"Perfect, I'll pick up the customized accessories from the smith's shop later. For now, we should begin this dress." 

He hopped from the stool, laying the ragged jacket down, and began laying out the templates for the dress that would soon be woven into existence.

* * *

Heat crashed over Yunho's face in waves as he leaned over a large pit of coal and flames licking at his heavy smith's apron. He drew out the bright red metal and edged his way over to a large bucket of water, slowly dipping the burning metal into the water. Steam rose quickly around the heavy tongs he held, and Yunho breathed in relief.

"Being a blacksmith is tiring." 

"Try being a goldsmith then."

"But that needs someone who's precise and detailed."

Yunho grumbled, placing the cooled blade atop a nearby anvil before leaning back and cracking his back. The satisfying feeling of his bones realigning rang in his ears, and he slowly stood straight again. He walked around the newly forged blade and over to another young man, who was hunched over a thin chain of golden links.

He leaned over his brother, peering down at the assortment of bracelets and chains and necklaces strewn over the table. There were chains with little moons and pearls attached, and bands of gold that had different engravings and indents and gemstones embedded in the surfaces. A long gold feather was slipped onto the chain Gunho was leaning over, and as Yunho stared, his brother glared at the metal, eyes darting from the necklace to all of the other accessories around him. 

"I'm done. Finally."

"What's all this for?"

"A courtesan."

Yunho blinked, staring down at the countless pieces of jewelry. " _A_ courtesan? Like one?"

"Probably not, but that's what the commissioner said." Gunho shrugged, gathering the jewelry and placing each piece into a mid-sized wooden chest at the edge of his work table. "Either they meant multiple courtesans, or this particular one has very wealthy connections."

"I'd bet, whoever it is must be very wealthy, maybe a noble is having an affair."

"I couldn't care about the lives of nobles, I'm just doing a commision."

"Gunho!" A voice roared over the crackling of the forge, and both boys looked to a closed door. "Bring that box with the jewelry to the front, Mrs. Kang is here to pick it up!"

"On it!" Gunho shouted back, picking up the wooden chest and dusting himself off. Yunho glanced back at the sword laying on the anvil for a moment, before heading out the door with his brother. He closed the door behind him with a click, and turned to face his father, and a small woman standing on the other side of the long counter. 

Mrs. Kang Chorong was a small woman in comparison to Yunho, his brother, and his father, but she held herself with an air of both warmth and power. Her  dark hair was pulled up in a haphazard bun, and Yunho would be lying if he didn't say he could see a knitting needle sticking out and a couple of pins also sticking out of the high bun. Her clothes were slightly rumpled, patting down her skirts lightly, and she was slightly out of breath.

But her eyes were hard, something akin to annoyance glittering in the pools of brown beneath the friendly warmth.

"Hello boys, it's nice to see you two out of the forge once in a while," she nodded to their smokey clothes, and both chuckled sheepishly. "We basically live in there anyways, but it's nice to see you too." Yunho replied, smiling brightly as Gunho placed the box down in front of Mrs. Kang. "Ah, just a second." She spoke, rifling quickly through the bag she brought with her, drawing out a sizable sack and placing it down onto the counter. The coins inside clinked loudly and heavily, and Yunho could feel his eyes widen. Gunho and his father also seemed surprised, "Mrs. Kang, this seems like more than what we and the original commissioner agreed upon." 

His father tried to interject, but Mrs. Kang shook her head. "When the house matriarch asked if I would be able to pick these up, she insisted you be given the entirely of her payment."

"But.."

"She said she would not want to see her generous payment given up, and insisted I tell you so,"Mrs. Kang huffed, looking down at the sack full of what could be months of food and money towards more gold and gemstones for future works.

"We're very grateful, but this wasn't the initial price agreement.." Yunho sighed as his father continued trying to convince Mrs. Kang to take whatever extra money was in the bag.

"I insist on top of the matriarch's insistence, you three work very hard to keep the shop up and running."

"I..alright." His father took to bag, setting it at the back counter with a thunk. Meanwhile, Gunho had begun speaking with Mrs. Kang, and Yunho zeroed in on their conversation.

"..quite the rude customer she was, but we're handling it. Thank you for asking Gunho."

"Seems irritating to have to listen to someone who is yelling at you."

"Indeed."

Mrs. Kang picked up the chest and placed it in the bag strapped over her shoulder, "Thank you for your hard work boys, see you soon."

"Bye Mrs. Kang!"

"Bye!"

Yunho waved to her as she opened the door to the front if his father's smith shop, the setting sunlight casting her retreating figure in dramatic shadows as the door closed behind her.

* * *

"Remember little sea shard, you are a bird."

_A bird unable to fly_

"You are a flower."

_Fragile and fleeting_

"You are otherworldly"

_In a world of filth and rot_

"You will soar through the stars."

_Yet you chain me to the ground?_

"Always remain untouchable."

_Breakable.._

Mingi breathed in, his mind whirling with bitterness and yearning and anger all at once, the mantra he heard every day being repeated again in his head by another faceless voice as he centered himself.

He opened his eyes to see four different faces fussing over him, turning pieces of cloth over and handing the cloth to each other in exchange for another silk sash or a translucent shawl. At least twenty other people were also in the spacious room he stood in, the fine wood flooring and walls practically overtaken by the hundreds of tunics and shirts and different fabrics strewn throughout.

There were hands all over his body as a corset squeezed itself around his torso and other hands flitted over his arms and legs, tying ribbons and chains into the clothes he was being stuffed into. The jingle of various ornaments and jewels echoed in the busy room, a handful of other men and women preparing for their performances and those who were helping dress them.

"Gladiolus."

A word drew his ear, and Mingi shifted his gaze to see a woman standing beside him as he remained still on a short pedestal while being fussed over. Her eyes were lined heavily in khol and power dusted her eyelids and cheeks, her hair fell mid-back, white with a streak of lemon yellow. Her clothes certainly left nothing to the imagination, which was apparently crucial to her position in their work. A tight, pale yellow shirt with a very dramatic dip revealed her bust and cinched at her waist with thin gold band belt. Her arms were bare save a small curling golden band around her left upper arm and thin bracelets on her wrists. Her hips showed through a very near translucent skirt with slits that met where her undergarments showed through the shimmery yellow. Gold accessories jingled and clinked against one another, adorning her ears and wrists and a large yellow flower was clipped at the side of her head.

"Sunflower. What brings your attention this way?" 

The woman he called 'Sunflower' giggles at his curt response, a fan of yellow feathers waving in front of her face as her eyes narrowed slightly. "You seem stiff tonight, surely you needn't sit on the sidelines like you did the last time."

"Of course not," he replied as nonchalantly as he could, feeling his annoyance simmering under his skin. "I refused to perform last time simply as a short break from the same old routine."

"And yet it seems Lady Orchid put you on the roster to be a performer at the royal gala in five nights time, hm?”

"If she asks, then I will go."

"Ever faithful to that old bat I see." Her eyes glimmered behind curled eyelashes, nose undoubtedly scrunching snidely behind her obnoxiously bright fan.

 _Haughty witch,_ Mingi snarked in the back of his head, keeping his features in a mask of passive boredom. “Lady Orchid has never steered me or this house wrong before, and she will continue to guide us. I am sure she will make the right decisions for all those under her care.”

”You don’t truly believe that old hag is always right, you are blinded by your love and respect for her Gladiolus. That half-gifted wre-“

”Sunflower!” a voice thundered before Mingi could even bite her back with more straightforward words, startling a number of people in the room who had been listening to Sunflower’s words.

Another woman stormed forth in a blue and green floor length dress, grey eyes ablaze with fury under strands of dark hair, and a flurry of cobalt blue tail feathers swaying behind her. One sweep of the long feathers knocked a brush out of a girl’s hand, tickled the nose of another young woman who sneezed abruptly, and nearly swept a teenage boy holding an article of clothing right off his feet.

”You are out of line, and would do well to bite your tongue before Lady Orchid catches word of your insolence.” The peacock gifted woman bristled with anger, the ornaments of silver and sea glass linked on her many feathers chiming wildly as she snarled and her tail feathers shook.

”Larkspur,” the obnoxiously yellow lady spat, her white and yellow hair curling at her back in reminiscence of the animal that gifted her. “You should learn to keep your tail feathers out of others business, no one will want to be with someone so nosy.” 

Mingi and the four attendants hovering and holding chains and accessories up to his body all sighed inwardly as two of the most prideful ladies at the house bickered. The attendants proceeded to ignore the rising voices and continued to address what finery he would be adorned with tonight. Mingi, on the other hand, watched with mild concern as the two spat and snarled at each other, waving hands and gesturing forcefully despite the refined image they were tasked with upholding. Sunflower flicked her feathery fan at Larkspur with another snide comment, who in turn puffed up with anger, her tail feathers fanning out violently.

A squeak broke faintly through the argument and Mingi blinked as a young girl attending another woman startled when the feathers whacked her on the shoulder, inadvertently drawing a line of brilliant crimson across the woman's cheek. She rushed to apologize, but the woman waved her profuse apologies and emerging tears off, reassuring the girl it was an easy fix while glaring blithely at Sunflower and Larkspur.

"Gladiolus, could you..?" a younger male attendant motioned hesitantly for Mingi's attention, a brush dipped in vermillion red lip paint in hand. Mingi turned obediently, tuning the voices of the women out, feeling the soft hairs of the brush against his lower lip and pressed his lips together when the attendant asked him. A final layer of power was dusted over his eyes and cheeks, a slight sweep over the bridge of his nose and the brushes clicked down on the small table beside the attendants.

"All right," one of the older attendants considered, eyeing Mingi up and down and contemplating making any shifts or changes to his outfit. "I think you're all set Gladiolus, you can step down and look in the mirror." Mingi thanked her and the other three who bowed respectfully and began to gather their brushes and powder containers.

Mingi touched down barefoot on the clean wood, drifting past the others in the room to reach a wall on the far left where there was a large mirror display. As he walked soundlessly over, he was waved or nodded to by a handful of other performers, some familiar, some not as much. Two looked to him at the same time turning is unison, and Mingi recognized Narcissus, a younger boy who's eyes twinkled mischievously, and a girl of the same age who bore the name Oleander.

"As elegant as ever, Gladiolus." Narcissus quiped from where he sat beside Oleander who nodded vigorously, a shy smile on her lips.

"Thank you" he nodded in return, smiling gently at the younger performers who were asked to turn forward and continue with makeup and dress.

Mingi reached the mirrors quickly, taking in his appearance as the background noise fell away. His brown eyes were winged with a line of khol and a layer of golden powder glittered on his eye lids with hints of silvery-blue. Any blemishes on his skin were gone under a layer of concealing powder and blush, and his face overall looked softer and graceful, his smaller eyes popping out more. Mingi pressed his plump lips together, the red paint standing out brightly beside his paler skin and the golden eyeshadow. His hair had been swept up and styled, brushed off his forehead and styled up in gentle waves of brown and blue that moved towards that back of his head and for a moment he contemplated if he placed a crown of some sort on his head if it would sit on his hair alone.

Mingi looked down from his face, fumbling lightly with the long swath of cloth the attendants had draped behind his back, clipping it above his wrists with bands of silver and the ends falling down to his feet. The thick corset belt around his waist cinched in dramatically, giving his hips a more pronounced flair over a loose white halter top that was tied in a bow at his nape. His pants flowed around his legs, tucked into the bottom of the corset and squeezing his thighs slightly before dropping in fluttering waves of black cloth to his ankles. Around his neck there was a thick strip of cloth, crimson and bright, and a thin string of chains hidden underneath until they dropped, emerging and wrapping around his torso and waist in four long loops of silver that connected at his back. Mingi turned, lifting his arm slightly to peer over his shoulder at his back where his markings and tattoo rested.

The numerous blue crescents melted into a violet color as they curved down his nape, shoulder blades and hips, curving up and down, in a kind of symmetric dance on on the planes of his back. At his spine, from down to his tailbone and up to the tip of two marks that curved over his neck, was a line of flowers. They curled and twisted in elegant starburst shapes, sharp leaves a bright green shade among the blooms of violet that faded to a light lavender and finally a stark white against his skin. The row of flowers covered his spine entirely, the larger blooms at his lower back and growing smaller as they reached up his back.

The flowers were gladiolus, and Mingi wore their name for as long as he has been in the House of Flowers.

A tap to his shoulder halted the oncoming memories, and Mingi turned to see a woman called Primrose, "Gladiolus, Lady Orchid is asking you to go to her chambers after tonight's performance."

Before he could reply, confused about the sudden audience with the head of house, a voice called out for the performers, calling them out onto the stage.

Mingi spun to face Primrose, who face was solemn and kind, "I'll be sure to see her right after, thank you for informing me."

She smiled gently, patting his arms as they trembled with nerves he hadn't noticed before and lifting up to him a mask of cloth connected to a thin chain. She reached up and clasped the ends together, resting the edge of the fabric at the bridge of his nose and adjusting the excess fabric to fall over his other features. "Breathe, and let yourself go when you step out from behind those curtains."

"Right."

Primrose stepped away, and Mingi turned to assemble with the other performers, catching sight of Larkspur and Sunflower, masks of content and smiles on their faces. All was quiet for a few minutes, before an attendant peeked out. "It's time."

Mingi breathed, shedding his nerves as he stepped forth, eyes narrowing from the light beaming onto his face from behind the curtain, and the dance began as stars glittered above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are so many animals in this world....why do i overcomplicate things
> 
> Sorry Yunho's part is so short, it was very late when I wrote it and i was running on a few remaining braincells functioning at the time.
> 
> to clear up some things regarding Mingi:  
> He is a dancer/courtesan at a house called House of Flowers  
> He predominantly plays the role of dancer, less of a courtesan  
> Each more high class house has a specific name, such as House of Flower/Gems/Trees etc  
> The courtesans and performers take on the names pertaining to the house name, so someone from the House of Tree's would take the name Oak or Pine  
> Some houses will require their workers to have tattoos of the object/organism they have taken the name of and go under  
> I understand that courtesans are upper class prostitutes, and though in this fic Mingi is of legal age and an adult, no past sexual acts involving him will be described beyond very brief mentions
> 
> I am still working out the outline of this fic, and am writing as I go and have many loose ends, however there will be nothing explicit, and if the rating were to go up it would likely be due to depictions of violence or the such
> 
> I will be putting trigger warnings if I feel there is any necessary information readers need before reading the chapter.
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated as I am learning and trying to improve.
> 
> not yet beta read.


	4. Preparations for...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions rise, and something stirs on the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a long ride.
> 
> I putting this note here both for me and for readers, and it is for where the members currently are  
> Hongjoong, Wooyoung and San are at the port town  
> Yeosang and Yunho are closer to the capital city, but on the outskirts  
> Seonghwa and Jongho are at the inner circle of the capital city  
> Mingi is at the outer circle of the capital city

The sound of bare feet echoed in the stairwell, wood creaking and groaning as he ascended to the highest room in the house. Behind him, the din of the dancers faded away beneath the hubbub of the bar and courtesans who's guests were becoming a bit too rowdy or enthusiastic. 

Mingi breathed as he continued climbing, bracing himself as he neared the top of the stairs. As soon as the performance had ended, he had removed most of the chains and ribbons tied to him, and made his way through the house to the stairs that would lead to the matriarch's room.

But instead of the large doors meeting him, he was met face to face with another startled person.

He and the person blinked, before the other spoke.

"Gladiolus, you are also meeting with Lady Orchid?"

Mingi took a moment to respond, "I am, just as it seems you are Anemone." The other laughed, their hair ornaments jingling lightly. "I've just finished, you better head in."

"Ah, yes," he was about to step forward to knock, when their hand fell on his shoulder, red nails glittering in the torchlight. Mingi turned to see their eyes looking up into his, imploring and sad. The makeup they wore was running slightly, the kohl was smeared on their cheeks and their eyes were red and puffy, something Mingi hadn't seen when they had stood face to face.

They'd been crying within the past hour, and if they had just been in a meeting with their head of house, that meant something had happened between Anemone and Lady Orchid.

"Gladiolus," they spoke, their voice barely a whisper. "You would never betray Lady Orchid, yes?"

"Anemone, what is that supposed to mean?"

"Would you?"

"I.."

"Would you, Gladiolus?"

Mingi stared into their pleading brown eyes, confusion whirling in his head. Why are they asking this now, when they stand outside the room of their House matriarch? Why not in private, or downstairs when their conversation would be lost to the noise that surrounded them.?

"Well?"

"I..would not," came his response after a heartbeat of silence. "Lady Orchid is someone who has cared for me for all the years I have been here, and she is like a mother to me."

Anemone sighed, breaking the somewhat tense eye contact as soon as his words slipped from his mouth. They removed their hand, instead reaching up to rub their puffy eyes and fingering the cloth of their shirt.

"Of course."

"Why do you ask?"

Anemone froze, their hands stilling, and they looked up once more, eyes shimmering wetly, but something else was hidden beneath their unshed tears. 

"No reason, I must go now."

"Anemone, wait-" Mingi tried, but they slipped away quickly, hurrying down the stairs.

He stood there for a couple moments longer, questions whirling in his head, before turning to the large wooden doors. They loomed over him even with his taller stature, and Mingi could see each flower from previous matriarchs carved into the deep colored wood. Just above his eye level, Mingi saw the intricate orchid flower in full bloom, the white paint worn down and fading, carved and painted by the person beyond these doors.

He knock twice, and a voice rose from behind the doors, "You may enter."

Mingi stepped into the room, "Close the door behind you please, Mingi."

He felt a slight hitch in his breath, hearing his true name from behind his back as he shut the door with a soft thud.

He turned, taking in the spacious room and the soft white curtains hanging over large windows and the white canopy over the bed in the center of the room. A small vanity sat at the far left side of the diamond shaped space, and a tall dresser rested at the far right. There was a desk at the further left side, and a worn couch was further back towards the right. All other objects in the room were either soft chairs or plants, their leaves sweeping the floors and the flowers glowing in the moonlight that flooded through the windows.

"Come closer Mingi," the voice rose from the large bed, the figure behind the canopy only a faint silhouette. "It has quite a while since we last saw each other."

* * *

Seonghwa's footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, brisk and thunderous. The few servants he passed by nodded to him, but he did not acknowledge them as he continued to stomp his way down the corridors towards his own chambers. The conversation he held in private with Choi Boyeon continued to swirl through his head, the words that fell from the elder's lips spelling what could be the end of everything he'd ever known.

The King...

Seonghwa reached the doors to his chambers, two guards standing still in front of it. They stepped soundlessly to the side as he rushed forward, throwing his doors open and closing them roughly. The resounding bang echoed briefly through his room, but Seonghwa paid no mind as he turned to his large desk.

The aging wood gleamed with a silver sheen as beams of moonlight filtered through the high window above it, baren besides a small pen and small slip of paper. Below the window, numerous papers were pinned into the wall, the largest being a map of the kingdom in which he and so many others lived.

Soel was a large peninsula kingdom, the border they shared with Zhong Hua Kingdom being their only land connection, the rest were by sea and boat. The Kingdom had existed for thousands of years, the founding occuring around the same time as many other kingdom's after the death of the ninth heir to the 'First' and her legacy. The ninth heir was to succeed his father, but he vanished and left the kingdom in the hands of his younger brother. The era of peace the 'First' had created crumbled under the tenth king, and from its ashes rose many independent kingdoms. 

The peace remained for many decades, but the kingdom's were soon drawn into war. The wars were later dubbed the Bronze War, and following the war were tales of a 'Treasure' that would bring the peace like that of the 'First' and her reign, or absolute destruction to the holder's enemies.

The news lead to a somewhat cyclic path, and rulers rose and fell, each with their own goals. Some became obsessed with finding the 'Treasure', sending vast fleets of sailors out to find it, and none ever returned with the Treasure in hand. Others focused on the tense relationships between the kingdoms, edging to peace or war. Any other wars between kingdoms were small, none up the the scale of the Bronze War until the most recent Silver War. It raged for sixteen-nearly seventeen-years, innumerable soldiers and citizens lost on all sides that fought. 

Many kingdoms were still in differing stages of recovery, and the King of Soel chose to send teams of soldiers and sailors to find the elusive 'Treasure' that would be the end of the conflict simmering under the ground of the continent.

And yet, after so many arduous searches, teams disappearing or re-emerging the less than half their crews, the 'Treasure was never found. 

Now it seems there is another problem that Soel would be facing, Seonghwa mused, reaching up to a sheet of paper with a detailed sketch of an older man. His face was broad and sculpted, lines of aging captured in ink and eyes piercing from were they laid on the paper. A crown sat atop the man's head, and Seonghwa continued to glare down at the drawing of the current King of Soel.

Choi Boyeon's words whispered past his ear, and Seonghwa clenched the paper tighter.

_The King..._

_The King is..._

_..not the_

_..true king_.

* * *

 

"Extra! Extra!"

A young man's cheerful voice rolled through the salty sea air, his figure visibly taller than everyone else's in the square as he stood on the platform in the morning sun. His arm was waving around excitedly, a pamphlet fluttering as his arms shook wildly. 

"Extra! Word straight from the capital! The _Stray_ strikes again!"

Hongjoong's head turned from where he was bent over analyzing a basket of apples. The stall manager was also looking in the direction of the loud calls, "What in the blazes?"

"Extra! The King issues another crazed search for the Treasure!"

Hongjoong leaned over and tapped the man's shoulder, paying for a small bag of apples and dropping them into the heavy satchel at his waist. He then made his way towards the screaming man, a small crowd already gathering to hear his words. He reached the small platform, craning his head up to see the young man still furiously gesturing, a second young boy handing out the pamphlets to the surrounding people.

One of them slid into Hongjoong's hand, and he clutched the leaflet tightly as the boy above him slapped the paper against his leg, continuing to speak. 

"After a recent attack on the town of Yangju, the _Stray_ continues to ravage merchant ships and destroy precious cargo! In light of the recent events, the King orders his top nobles to begin the twentieth search for the Treasure since the Silver War!

"This is getting ridiculous," a gruff voice barked over the boy, and it came from an older man standing a short distance from Hongjoong. His hair was thick and brown, and his arm were crossed, the pamphlet a crushed ball in his fist. "This is the same news as always. Another ship sunk, another order from His Majesty to find this 'Treasure' of his." 

The younger male smirked, waving the leaflet haughtily, "You are correct good sir, but this 'Treasure' holds great power!"

"Does it even exist? We fought a sixteen year war over this _thing_ and we don't even truly know if it's real!" The man snarled, glaring holes into the younger's head.

"Of course it does! Ever since the destruction of the _Never_ ," Hongjoong flinched, his own eyes staring at the speaker as he felt anger boiling in his gut. "The Head of Naval Affairs has said that they found a map leading to the Treasure in the wreckage!"

"Oh really? Does it tell the king where he can find his brain?" A laugh rose from the small crowd.

"No sir,' the young man continued, his lips curled smugly. "It was reported to have been pulled straight from the corpse of the Black Panther of Gyeonggi-do himself!"

He couldn't listen to this anymore. 

Hongjoong spun on his heel, stuffing the crumpled paper into his satchel and walking briskly away from the growing argument between the two men and the rest of the crowd. Their words rang in his ears, deafening and disgusting, bile rising to his throat as memories flashed through his mind. He was so lost in the emerging memories that he didn't register a paper flying at his face until it smacked him. Hongjoong sputtered, reaching up and yanking the paper from his over eyes.

A haunting gaze looked back at him, and Hongjoong near choked as he was confronted with heavily sleep deprived eyes and curly hair inked onto the paper. The lower face was obscured by a bandana, but the curls and done-with-the-world eyes were familiar.

Thick black words were printed onto the paper, the words popping out in a stark reminder of the people he left behind.

WANTED

Hongjoong stared at the half shown face of a person he had been close with for years, and had not seen since the ruination of the _Never_.

KANGAROO 

CAPTAIN of the STRAY

REWARD of 10,000 SILVERS

To be taken to the Head of Naval Affairs

DEAD or ALIVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna say this now, sh*t hits the fan soon.
> 
> My apologies for the very very late and short update, life is happening and I've been trying to lay out an outline for the story in the hopes that the inspiration with flow easier. This has been sitting as a draft for quite a time, and is unbetad and unedited, so there will be some inconsistent choppiness. I'll be returning to edit soon, but I'd like to try and get a few more chapters up soon. Thank you for reading and your patience.


	5. Wisteria in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A package is delivered, a list approved, and a doubt set into a mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep

The clack of heavy wooden wheels  drowned out the sound of street goers, a horse’s neigh breaking the pattern rarely. Yeosang peeked out the small window in the carriage door, watching as people dressed in fine clothes walked about, tittering and frittering senselessly. He stole a glance to the side, taking note of the three wrapped parcels sitting beside his mother, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her face was pinched, normaly soft features slightly contorted as she was undoubtedly cursing in her mind.

He and his mother were on their way to the courtesan house after their very brief stop to hand the finished gown to the rude lady from a few days prior.  She had a servant fetch the dress, who sheepishly handed his mother the bag with payment and a letter that she had refused to open. Or at least until they got back home, where she could rage in peace.

The dress itself was simple by nature, but the women had made so many demands and additions to the dress that it looked no where near its original bell shape. He and his mother had stayed up all hours the night before painstakingly sewing on what felt like a thousand little crystals into the bodice of the gown, each glittering brightly against the offensively bright green and pink fabric. Yeosang could certainly say that it 'would make eyes turn' when she entered the ball.

A holler from outside the the wooden carriage broke through his musing, and Yeosang blinked as some passersby waved to him from outside. It was a women smiling politely, a young girl beside her holding a small basket full of apples and oranges. He waved back, a beaming grin stretching on the young girls face. The two strangers went on their way, the girl skipping beside her mother and Yeosang turned to his own mother who was looking at him with a contemplative frown on her face. "Yeosang, remember this is a house of pleasure for high class people. Stay close, don't speak directly with anyone other than the house matriarch," she warned.

"Right," he said, his mind beginning to drift to their destination, trying to picture the courtesan house. Was it big and bold, or stately and elegant? Would the patrons and courtesans be milling about, or in private rooms? Would any of them try and hit on him? Yeosang shivered as the idea crossed his thoughts. 

”Yeosang," his mother’s voice put a halt to his wondering. "We’re here.” The carriage rolled to a halt, his mother stepping out and carrying her three packages with her. 

As Yeosang looked out, he saw the tall building casting a long shadow in the early morning light. The structure was built more traditionally with rich brown wood, paper screened windows popping out slightly against the shadows. A handful of lanterns were lit, likely still burning from the previous night, casting hues of red and orange against the dark wood. Flowers were carved into the large doors in front, arching high and dipping low in refined patterns, signifying the house name, House of Flowers.

The horseman who drove the carriage nodded to Yeosang when he stepped down and pulled his heavier case with him. A whiny from the two horses at the front startled Yeosang, and the horseman neighed back, the brown splotches of his marking on his neck glowing auburn.

His mother strode forward, having already paid the driver and walking up the steps to the door of the building. She held the accessories from the black smith, a gift to the house matriarch as she had told him, and a small square package wrapped in silk. The silk shimmered lightly, and as Yeosang fell into step behind her, he noted a slight flash of gold. Inside the case he held was the outfit the house matriarch had commissioned, the fluttery fabric tucked safely away. He hastily followed, reaching his mother’s side as she lifted the heavy metal door knockers and brought one down twice. The resulting sounds were hollow and loud, ringing out and echoing in Yeosang's ears.

A middle aged woman answered, her orange dress clinging to her slim form as she bowed slightly and gestured for their entry. Yeosang followed his mother quickly, nodding to the woman who had answered the door who said nothing, closing to door as he stepped past the threshold. The interior was dimly lit, lanterns spread sparsely around the spacious room. A small podium was placed off the the side, a hallway placed in the center of the wall reaching far behind it with a white cloth fluttering over it as a curtain. A large carpet colored blue, purples, and grays was spread across the floor, and the windows screened by wood with shapes of flowers carved out of them, allowing little morning light in. His mother moved to the center of the room, her foot tapping lightly against the thick fabric of the carpet as Yeosang noted the scattering of various kinds of flower petals.

He was so engrossed in trying identify which flowers the petals came from that Yeosang didn't hear the approaching footsteps from the hallway. He felt a sharp jab in his side, his mother's eyes stern as she directed his attention away from the floor. The footsteps were light, the soles of the person's shoes tapping softly against the wood as Yeosang straightened his shoulders in preparation.

It was only when the sound of footsteps were just beyond the white curtain that Yeosang realized there were two sets of feet, the overlap nearly undetectable.

The curtain was pushed aside, a women stepping out. Her face was carved from the finest marble, pale and small with features that screamed grace and elegance and hair pulled back with multiple glittering pins. The robes she wore were more traditional, white and red with accents of gold flowing around her tall form. At her back, a white and black wing was held at a slight tilt forward.

There was only the one wing.

Yeosang felt himself unconsciously stand straighter as she walked forward, her presence radiating waves of refined grace and dignity.

Behind her, another person emerged from behind the curtain. As the second person emerged, Yeosang felt himself freeze up completely. 

_Purple wisteria flowers fluttered through the air, laughter filled with joy echoing in little Yeosang's ear._

_And a boy with black wings brushed against him, his hands outstretched and reaching._

_"Lune, I hope we-"_

"-my son, Yeosang."

"Thank you and Yeosang, Mrs. Kang. I hope my request didn't deter you from other works."

"Not at all, it was a pleasure to work on."

Yeosang blinked, his mother and the house matriarch's conversation drowned out by the ringing in his ears. His eyes took in broad yet slender shoulders and a tiny, tapered waist covered by a sheer blue shawl and a loose white shirt. Long legs are clothed by similarly white pants that cling to well muscled and thick thighs, and grey slip on shoes cover their feet. The overall figure of the second person is rather willowy and sylphlike, and Yeosang found himself looking up to meet this person's eyes.

He was met with warm pools of brown with flecks of gold and amber set into slender eyes. A face he had only glimpses of in his memory was no longer filled with baby fat all children had in their youth. Instead, he glanced over prominent cheek bones and a straight nose, slight freckles dusted along them, and plump pink-red lips that were set into a natural pout. Waves of indigo and cerulean blue hair fall over their forehead, skin pale and smooth.

Yeosang said nothing as the other's own eyes flashed with recognition, lips parting but remaining silent.

A thousand words drifted between them, unable to be spoken.

"Yeosang," his mother spoke, breaking both of them from their impromptu staring. "It is time we go." He looked back to the other, who shook his head minutely.

No memories would be exchanged here, only packages and unspoken questions.

The house matriarch bit them farewell, the packages and case in the hands of a few attendants, and turning to disappear behind the white curtain. The boy he remembered in glimpses of wisteria and feathers bowed to Yeosang and his mother, more so a curtsy than a bow but he said nothing. Something clinked as he turned to follow his matriarch, and Yeosang drew in a soft breath as he watched him leave.

Thin golden chains were laced over his back, the back of the loose shirt he wore sliced open in a v-shape. Numerous little holes rimmed with gold links were set in the fabric, the chains flimsy and chiming softly together. His marking flashed between the lines of gold, blue and purple melding with a tattoo colored violet gradating to white that encompassed what skin would have been bare of his marking along his spine.

The boy he had not seen in over fifteen years vanished behind the curtain, footfalls near silent and the faint clink of weak gold chains all that indicated his movement.

_The chains you wear don't define you._

Yeosang had called him Wist once upon a time.

* * *

The candelabra on his grandfather's desk crackled softly as Jongho perused the enormous shelves that held what felt like thousands of books in his grandfather's study. Each book was aged, bindings falling apart or crudely held together with glue and string. The fancier books were aged similarly, thick bindings splitting and paint flecking off, and the gold paint dusting the shelves as it peeled away with time. Jongho reached up, his fingers brushing the spine of a book that was titled _The Complete Line of the Royal Family of Soel._ It looked a tad bit more used than other books in the study, and he was just pulling it from the shelf when the door creaked open. 

Jongho's hand fell away from the book, standing to attention as his grandfather stepped into the room. Even nearing one hundred years old, Choi Boyeon was robust and tall, his shoulders and chest retaining the strength he had wielded during the time of the Silver War. His grandfather's tales of glory and fame were earned early into the war due to his prowess on the battlefield and his gorilla gifted power, and Jongho remembers almost every single one.

"Ah, Jongho," his grandfather spoke."My favorite grandchild, just who I wanted to see." Jongho snorted lightly, "Don't let Jaegyu hear you say that, he's convinced he's your favorite." His grandfather's laugh rumbled lowly through the room as he strode to his desk. "All of my grandchildren are my favorites." He sat heavily with a soft huff, his bones cracking subtly.

Jongho heard a slight grumble that sounded like _I'm getting to old for this_ as his grandfather pulled his chair forward. He looked at Jongho calmly, a questioning yet mischievous look on his face. "So what is it that you need from me, my favorite grandchild?"

Jongho walked to his grandfather's desk, plucking a scroll from his drawer and laying it out. A long list of names was written on it, each name scrawling across the paper like tendrils of fine black hair. "Father asked me to run this list by you, as all the people written here are foreign emissaries and nobles who were invited to the King's party."

His grandfather pulled the list closer, grabbing his spectacles from their casing on the side of his desk and setting them on his nose. He squinted slightly, eyes going down the list with stern consideration. He spent about three minutes heming and hawing, before stamping the scroll with his seal of approval and rolling it back up and handing it to Jongho.

As Jongho bowed and walked to the door of the study, his grandfather spoke, "Jongho, some of those people may be connected to the _Black Rose_."

The air between the two turned silent and stifling, the name of the extremist rebel group hanging there. Jongho turned to glance at the paper tacked to his grandfather's wall, the emblem of the group pinned next to many other papers.

"Then I'll be careful when I attend the ball," is all he said, finality in his tone. 

"Yes, you may go."

The door creaked shut behind him.

* * *

The cobblestone was cold beneath Yunho's hands as he shuffled along, guided only by the torch held in his father's hand a couple paces ahead. Gunho glanced at him from where he walked beside Yunho, the firelight glinting in his eyes. Their footfalls seemed to echo on forever as they trekked further down below the town, the torchlight crackling amidst their footsteps. 

Something glinted in the light ahead of them, and his father blew out the torch. Yunho shivered as their only source of light and warmth vanished, the smoke curling back around his head seeming to tug on his hair and fluttering away.

A rose took shape in the darkness. It glowed an eerie blue, smeared onto the stone with care as the petals and leaves popped like stars in the pitch black they were enveloped in. The stem of the rose slowly come into existence, thorns sharp and glowing alongside the head of the flower.

It hovered there for a few seconds, not a word spoken between Yunho, his brother, or his father.

Something creaked in the gloom, and a shaft of light spread across the damp stone ground. The rose vanished, no longer able to trump the nonexistent light as a door hidden in the dark opened further.

"For a rose is a King, " a voice pierced the silence, a man's silhouette outlined by the light beaming through the now open door.

"As a King is a rose," Yunho's father replied, setting down the torch. There was a moment of terse silence, when a heartily thunderous laugh rocked the narrow tunnel, slight dust particles dancing down from the stone above their heads onto Yunho's hair. The man in the doorway clapped his father's hand, tugging the three of them through the door and shutting it with a loud clang. 

"Bogyeong, we haven't seen much of you in recent meetings! Surely you must come by more often," the larger man boomed, his face jovial and broad. Yunho flinched as he and Gunho were clapped carelessly on their shoulders, the force stinging through his shirt fabric. "Did you bring these two for an initiation today?" Yunho winced, rubbing his shoulder, but also recalling the last initiation he has witnessed. 

It had been a young man and woman couple around Yunho's age joining the Black Rose for whatever reason. He recalled watching the two take the brief oath and slice a shallow line into their skin with a wicked looking dagger. Three drops of blood in a goblet, and they disappeared into an adjoining room. The two emerged an hour later, roses inked into their skin at the top of where they had previously cut into their arms.

With that, they were now members of Soel's most prevalent revolutionary group.

Yunho watched as his father cracked his shoulder, rolling it slightly before turning to the tall man. "Only if they chose to Hangil, only if they choose too." Hangil laughed, and Yunho wondered if that was all he would do today. Hangil was an old friend of his father, broad and grungy looking and gifted with a rhinoceros beetle's horn. The two grew up together and joined the _Black Rose_ together when they were young adults looking for a purpose in life. 

As his father and Hangil chatted, Yunho glanced around the common room they had entered. It had not changed much since he and Gunho were last brought here months prior, maybe a few more standing torches or tables, but nothing too noticeable. The large banner with the same rose as in the tunnel hung in the center of the far wall, the rose now inky black against a orange and red background. Smaller banners were dispersed throughout the room, nailed into the stone walls. In the center of the large room surrounded by four torches was a large map of the capital and the provinces around the capital city. It rose from the table, crafted by any who chose to add their knowledge to its structure, and had over time turned it a murderous arts and crafts project.

There was a rather large amount of people in the room today, and Yunho watched as some were getting stupid drunk off of liquor they surely brought themselves, others poring over maps and stabbing tiny knives into the paper. There were all kinds of people in the revolutionary group, each with their own objectives or things of gain from the main purpose of the Black Rose.

The main goal of the rebel group _Black Rose_ being to supplant the current king, and find someone worthy to rule.

Originally, there were multiple groups who wanted different things from the rulers of Soel, each coming into existence at different times. Yunho knew of a few still functioning strongly within the _Black Rose_ , such as the group who only wanted a new ruler, those who wanted the monarchy itself to end, and others who felt their protests would not reach the kings ears no matter how hard they tried. There was another faction that existed, avoided by most and remaining secretive even while working within the _Black Rose_. 

And they were a group that claimed that their king was a fake, and a true king would rise from the blood of the current king.

Yunho didn't know what to think of that, but the fall of the First and the messy situation of her lost bloodline and lost kingdom would not make their claim entirely implausible.

At some point, all those independent groups turned into a cohesive group bent on change at any cost, some losing their original objective as is was washed away by larger ideas and plans. Their head leader who lorded over the entirety of the _Black Rose_ was an enigma, someone no one had ever actually seen without a huge, monstrous mask on their face. The one time Yunho remembered seeing them was at a gathering many years ago in a different place that was just as eerie. No one beyond the tiny circle of _Black Rose_ members had ever actually seen their face, but rumors circulated and everyone has just accepted that their leader was either private, or horribly scarred.

Gunho abruptly slapped him on the shoulder, and it took a moment for Yunho to realize that a number of the torches had been blown out. The torches still lit were being arranged in a semicircle around a small platform against the far wall. A man was standing on the makeshift stage in front of the largest banner, his hands raised and beckoning for everyone's attention. His expression was one of determination, and something darker lurking behind his grin.

"Brothers and sisters," he called, gesturing for the onlookers to move close. "The times draw near where we must take action! The king casts his eyes elsewhere, ignoring our presence as though we are merely ants!"

The man droned on, his words increasing in volume and urgency. He breezed through a rallying cry, against the king, against the monarchy who looked down their noses at people like those gathered, and continued addressing their complaints. A brief mention was made about pirates, but it was lost among the triumphant cheers that came from the crowd.

Yunho glanced around to see his father, eyes alight with anticipation as he stood beside Hangil. Gunho poked him again, shaking his head as they watched their father get sucked into the man's honey dipped words. Yunho wrung his hands anxiously, looking at all the excited and empowered faces in the crowd.

Mutiny was never on Yunho's mind, and he liked the peaceful life he lived. But his father was among many people who wanted change, most of whom were willing to dirty their hands with the blood of royals to get it.

The empowering speech continued for nearly ten minutes, the man visibly loosing his breath as he wrapped up. Yunho had drowned it out with his worries and doubts, when a shout startled him from his thumb-twiddling.

"For a rose is a True King!" The speech guy yelled, his fist raised in his air.

The crowd responded, their hands shooting into the air and their chant echoing deafeningly about the closed chamber, "As a True King is a _Black Rose!"_

A huge gust of wind buffeted past Yunho, and he whipped around to see a woman with what seemed like cardinal wings-glinting in the golden firelight-flapping them once, twice.

The torches went out, and they were all plunged into darkness. Yet the chants continued, and the banners around the room began to glow, the luminescent paint casting all the bodies in an ominous blue-green halo. Yunho blinked furiously as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and he could feel Gunho's hands wrapped around his arm.

Something knocked against Yunho's head, the clack sounding like some kind of horn or antlers.

He patted Gunho's hands reassuringly, looking to the banners. The chants had not decreased in volume, still sounding like the ocean in a terrible storm crashing against a boat. But the banners kept glowing, the roses still black and hanging like a design where light was wiped away from a star-dusted sky.

He could hear his father's chanting intermingled with dozens of other voices.

And as he stood there, his brother clutching his arm, Yunho was certain the world was brighter above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not beta read
> 
> Its summer, and I'm trying to dedicate more time to writing. I type most things on a whim and I plan on developing them later on into the story as I go along. I hope to be able to get another chapter out by the end of the month, and I thank you readers for your patience.


End file.
